


Wyler Worlds: Zombie Apocalypse

by RazetheAxolotl



Category: LGBT Youtubers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Boyfriends, Gay, LGBT Youtubers - Freeform, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, RPF, Romance, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 18:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16645244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RazetheAxolotl/pseuds/RazetheAxolotl
Summary: Fiction inspired by real people, Wylie Phenix and Tyler Ringhand, specifically Tyler's love for Call of Duty. Tyler and Wylie meet in Minnesota during the zombie apocalypse. Warnings: Mild language and some mild zombie gore.





	Wyler Worlds: Zombie Apocalypse

 

I’m at the grocery store, minding my own business, debating between canned corn and green beans. It’s hard to read the labels with all the lights off. I wonder if using my small flashlight is worth the risk as I pull more cans from the shelf and drop them into my duffle bag.

My name is Tyler, by the way. Why are the lights off, you ask? The answer is that the power went out a few weeks ago.

Turns out I’ve attracted attention even without a flashlight. I hear one of the fuckers shuffling behind me and I spin around. Its grey, slack-jawed face glares at me, baring its rotted teeth and raising its arms with gnarled fingers clenching the air. I draw my machete from my belt and slam it straight through its head before it can take another step. Blood and brains spew out and it hits the ground with a heavy thud.

‘It’ is a zombie.

Oh, so you haven’t heard? Yeah, the world’s gone to shit and it’s a full-on zombie apocalypse, just like the TV shows and video games.

The infection (if that’s what it is) hit the big coastal cities first and then spread inward to the rest of America. It took about a week to hit Minnesota, so I had some time to prepare. All the guns were gone pretty quick, but I managed to get a couple knives and one sick semi-automatic rifle, along with my prized machete. I also fortified my entire apartment building, which still somehow has running water but no electricity. Don’t ask me why, I sure as hell don’t know. No one is living in it except me. Most of my neighbors fled, but some did get bit. I had to kill a guy that lived downstairs to put him out of his misery. It sucked, but what can you do? No one should live like that.

I spend my days going on supply runs in my car, staking out the area, and keeping it safe by killing any zombies that wander too close. I’ll leave eventually, once resources get low, but I haven’t made any definite plans yet. You’re probably wondering why I didn’t go to a bigger city as soon as it happened. That’s what they all do in the TV shows right?

When I lay in bed at night listening to the silence – no cars, no sirens, no music, no nothing – I think about leaving, but something always stops me. I have this weird feeling that I’m waiting for something.

Anyway, back to that zombie I just dropped.

I pull my machete out of its skull and wipe it off on the zombie’s ragged clothes but it doesn’t do much. I hear the groans of another zombie approaching so I decide to cut my shopping trip short and zip up my duffel before heading towards the entrance. I’ve gotten all the water, lighter fluid, and canned goods that I can carry in my bag and I’m out the door and in my car in under a minute. I start the engine and speed off into the night.

Only to nearly run over a zombie sprinting across the parking lot carrying a guitar. I break so hard the tires squeal.

“The fuck?!”

Holy shit. It’s not a zombie. It’s a person. A guy.

I stare at him from behind my windshield and he stares back, his face scrunched up against my bright headlights. He’s dirty, skinny as fuck, and looks around my age, maybe younger. He’s wearing ripped jeans, a zip-up jacket streaked with mud, a beanie, and he’s got a big tan backpack slung over his shoulders. He’s also clutching a somehow perfectly clean guitar to his chest like a baby. He brings one hand up to shield his eyes from my headlights and then I notice the zombie pack he must have been running from.

I hesitate. There’s an unspoken rule about picking up strangers in zombie apocalypses… every movie or TV show I’ve ever seen proves that it usually doesn’t end well. He could steal from me or even kill me for my supplies. Maybe he’s already been infected.

In the seconds that I’ve taken to stare at him, he turns and sees the zombies and starts to back away.

I decide right then that I can’t leave him. Maybe it’s because I’ve been living completely on my own for a month – I haven’t seen a single breathing human in so long that I’m willing to take the risk. Besides, a kid carrying a guitar can’t be too much trouble, right?

I reverse hard, then bank to the right and shove the passenger door open.

“Get in!”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and he throws his backpack over the seat and slams the door behind him just as a zombie throws itself against the window. I’m spinning the car and gunning it out of there, mowing down a few fuckers on the way, full-on Hollywood action movie style. I pull out of the grocery parking lot and then we’re on the road.

It’s a long time before either of us says anything. I don’t even want to look at him. I still haven’t completely made up my mind about dropping him off somewhere. I don’t want to get involved, but I can’t take the silence anymore.

“So uh… I’m Tyler.”

He shifts the guitar in his lap. “Wylie.”

His voice is deeper than I thought it would be. He may be older than I thought.

“Huh. Like the coyote.”

He makes a noise that sounds like he’s heard that a million times. I can’t help but feel a bit annoyed that he hasn’t thanked me yet.

“You’re welcome,” I mutter.

He shifts the guitar again. “Thanks. Sorry.”

“No problem.”

We’re quiet again for a few more minutes. We’re getting closer to my place and I’m just wondering what I should do with him when he asks abruptly, “So where are we going?”

I pause. “My apartment is a few more miles away,” I hear myself say. “It’s pretty safe. You can crash for the night if you want.” I guess I’ve just decided. I hope this isn’t a mistake.

“How do I know you’re not some psycho whose gonna steal my shit?”

“What, you mean your guitar? No use for it, man.”

He leans against his window, distancing himself from me. I glance over and get a good look at him for the first time.

Damn. Underneath all the grime, he’s pretty cute.

He catches me staring and I look back at the road. This silence is killing me.

“You been on your own long?”

I can tell he’s still not entirely sure if he should trust me because he doesn’t answer right away. “Since it started, I guess. I’m not sure how long,” he says finally.

“Where’ve you been staying?”

Again, he pauses before answering. I guess that was too personal of a question. Eventually he says, “I was staying in my mom’s house, but then our neighborhood got attacked by some people. Humans, not zombies.”

I nod. Zombies aren’t the only ones to be afraid of now.

“I’ve been on my own since it started,” I say, even though he didn’t ask. “I’ve got food, water, gas. I looted some camping equipment too, so I’ve got a little stove and shit.” I don’t know why I’m bragging. If anything, I shouldn’t be telling him this.

“And a car,” he says.

“Yeah. Weapons too.” I hope that makes him think twice about trying to steal anything.

“I noticed.”

I can sense him looking at my machete now and I feel strangely proud. “I’ve done alright.”

He gestures to his guitar. “This is everything I’ve got, plus my bag.”

I glance in the rearview mirror at the bag in the backseat. “What ‘cha got in there?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him smile for the first time since I’ve met him. It’s a bashful grin, like he’s not quite sure he should tell me. “Cheese puffs and weed, mostly.”

“Seriously?” I’m grinning now too. It feels foreign on my face. I can’t remember the last time I smiled.

“Yeah.”

I’m laughing out my words. “It’s a fucking zombie apocalypse and you’re running around with a guitar and weed?”

He’s laughing with me now and we can’t stop, not even when we pass a couple zombies eating some poor dead fuck on the side of the road. It feels so good to laugh again.

I decide to let him stay. Safety in numbers right?

 

* * *

 

“What if we’re the last two people still alive on the planet?”

I look down at Wylie from my place on the couch where I’ve been for the last hour, resting and smoking after a day of patrolling. He’s lying on the floor in a nest of blankets, staring at the ceiling and blowing smoke circles into the air. Sometimes Wylie does this. When he’s high, he’ll start asking deep questions or mull over random ideas aloud. He’s been living with me for almost two weeks and I’ve gotten used to his stoned tangents by now, but he’s looking way too serious, and I don’t like it. I want to make him smile.

“Well then the human race is pretty much screwed since two guys can’t reproduce.”

I expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. His heavy-lidded eyes slide over to focus on me and he gives me a little smile. “We can try if you want.”

I blink.

Wait, what?

The shock must show on my face because suddenly Wylie is sitting up and laughing nervously, and I hear him mutter, “Just kidding,” as he fumbles to re-light his bowl.

I feel like I’ve been hit over the head with a rock. I think Wylie just flirted with me.

“Are you gay?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. It’s not like I haven’t wondered in the last week… thought about, fantasized even, but I always stopped myself, always shouted in my own head that there were bigger things to be worried about, like not getting eaten.

He hunches over his bowl and lighter, still flicking at it and doesn’t answer.

I can’t help it. I start to laugh, loud and excited. “Oh my god.”

He glares over at me, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you laughing?”

I can’t even speak – I’m laughing so hard that I’m silent. I try shaking my head, to let him know that it’s not him I’m laughing at, but I don’t get the message across because he’s scrambling off the floor and mumbling about packing his bag.

“Motherfucker.”

I sit up on the couch and snatch at his wrist as he passes me. My hand wraps around it easily and I’m holding him so tightly that I can feel his pulse race against my fingers. I realize it’s the first time I’ve touched him.

“No, it’s just,” I stumble over my words, wiping a tear from my eye with my other hand, looking up at him. “I can’t believe this.”

He tugs at my grip, still sneering. “What, you thought all the gays would die first?”

“No, it’s–,” and I realize that I haven’t had to tell someone this in awhile. “I’m gay. I’m gay too.”

He stares down at me, his lids still a bit droopy from the weed. Then he looks at my hand still holding his wrist. I drop it quickly.

“No you’re not,” he mutters.

“I am,” I say, way too loud. Shit, I’m high as fuck. He winces before hesitantly meeting my eyes again.

“I am,” I say once more, softer this time, and I can see that he believes me.

 

* * *

 

Okay, so just because we’re both gay doesn’t automatically mean we’re going to start dating (does dating even exist anymore, with zombies running around?). I get that. I know that. But I can’t help being attracted to this guy. Everything about him gets me going – his lanky body, his hazel eyes, his smirk – but I keep it hidden. We don’t need any drama right now. This isn’t a television show. We need to focus on surviving.

Lately we’ve been experimenting with solo runs in order to conserve our energy. We agreed on a small radius and a time limit of an hour. But Wylie’s been gone for almost two. When he was over by fifteen minutes, I told myself he’d be back soon. At half an hour over, my heart was starting to race. I was a little worried before. Now, I’m furious. I’m pacing, my chest hurts, and I’m sweating through my shirt.

I hear noise of someone approaching up the apartment stairs. My heart is banging against my ribs. I level my gun at the door, my whole body strung tight. Then I hear our secret knock. I practically collapse in relief, but I hold it together and wrench open the door. Wylie breezes by me, oblivious, his bag looking full.

“Thanks, man.”

The rage hits me so quick I have trouble seeing.

“Where the fuck were you?” I’m hissing through my teeth.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize the–”

“No more solo runs.”

Wylie looks up at me from the floor where he’s untying his shoes, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

“Tyler–”

“No. More.”

He stands up, his face twisted with annoyance. “Since when are you the boss of me? You don’t get to decide that.”

This fucker.

“I make the rules, I’m older–” Wylie tries to interrupt, but I continue through it, my voice rising and my hands balled into fists. “It’s my apartment, my supplies, my weapons–”

“My weed,” Wylie grumbles.

“My clothes, for fuck’s sake–”

“You said I could wear them!”

_“I saved you!”_

My shout stuns both of us into silence.

“Wow. Nice,” Wylie nods finally, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “You saved me. Got it. My knight in shining armor. Nothing can be done without your permission.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m forever indebted to you, Sir Ringhand.”

“That’s not… I don’t…” I run my hands through my hair and they’re shaking. I take a deep breath, but it rattles through my chest. My words won’t come. I can barely breathe. I think I might even be having a panic attack.

_‘I thought you were dead. Or worse.’_

The thought bubbles up in my brain and I cover my eyes. The dread I felt only a few minutes ago, when I thought I would never see him again, is threatening to return even though he’s standing right in front of me, safe and whole.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds wary, like he’s talking to a crazy person. He’s noticed I’m losing it.

Shit, I think I might cry, like actually cry big ugly sobs in front of this person, this person who I can’t live without, but I didn’t know that until I thought he was lying dead on the ground in pieces, and it’s all I can see now in my mind, his body ripped apart and blood everywhere, him screaming while they eat him,  _and oh God oh fuck –_

“Whoa.”

He’s grabbing my shoulder, shaking me a bit.

“Dude, I’m fine. I’m okay.”

I do cry then, and my chin drops to my chest and I keep my hands over my face so he can’t see.

“Hey,” his voice is closer now, and he squeezes my shoulder. “Look, I’m fine. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? I’m only okay if he is. I suck air in harshly, still struggling to control my breathing.

He brings both hands up to my arms and rubs them briskly, like he’s trying to keep me warm. It calms me a little, but it’s not what I need.

“Promise,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Promise you won’t go out there alone again. No more.”

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he gives my arms a final squeeze before dropping his hands and says softly, “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Wylie knocks on my bedroom door before peeking in.

I sit up quick. I wasn’t sleeping.

“You okay?” I ask.

He nods. He looks a little nervous, which is unusual for him. Fuck, I freaked him out earlier.

“Yeah, I’m... it’s just a little lonely out here, you know?”

My heart speeds up a little bit.

“Can I?” Wylie gestures at my bed. I realize what he’s asking and I’m moving over and flipping the covers back before I know it.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

He walks hesitantly into the room, scratching at one arm nervously. “If this is weird, just say.”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

He gives me a small smile and climbs into my bed. He snuggles down until the covers are up to his chin and he says, “Night,” before turning away and closing his eyes.

I don’t fall asleep for a long time, but once I do, I sleep better than I probably ever have.

We share a bed every night after that.

 

* * *

 

“Do you believe in fate?”

“Hmm?”

“Fate. Like, destiny or whatever.”

I open my eyes to stare up at the ceiling, wondering where Wylie is going with this. It sounds heavy and I’m honestly not in the mood. Today sucked – the gas station we tried was crawling with zombies, and we barely got away with some Slim Jims. I just want to sleep.

“Not really.”

The sheets rustle as he turns over in the bed to face me, one hand propping up his head. “You don’t think that sometimes things happen for a reason?”

I sigh heavily. “Wylie, it’s late.”

“Do you not think that?”

I groan and rub at the space between my eyes. “If they did, then zombies were meant to happen, and that’s fucked up. So, no.”

“I said sometimes, not like all the time.”

“Go to sleep, Wy.”

He’s quiet for a minute and I think I’ve shut him up. I exhale and my eyelids shutter closed.

“So… what about us, then?”

My eyes snap back open. I’m suddenly wide-awake. “What about us?"

I feel him sitting up in the bed next to me. “Just… it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that we met, you know?”

I try to sound disinterested, but I’ve never been more focused. “What do you mean?”

“Um…. Okay, so we’re both just randomly at that grocery store at that exact same point in time–”

I sit up too because I feel like this is leading somewhere important. The moon is coming in through the window and I can see his outline in the dark. He’s looking down at his hands on the blanket, plucking at it nervously as he talks.

“–And you saved me, like, just in time, you know? And we’re basically the same age. We’re both… I mean, we’re both gay–”

I’m practically holding my breath.

“–And it just seems weird, that it would happen like that – like without it being intentional. Like the universe planned it or something.” He pauses for a few seconds and then he asks, “Do you agree?”

I’m nodding before he can even finish asking, and then I realize he can’t see me because he’s looking at his hands.

“Sure,” I say, forcing my voice to be casual. “When you put it like that.”

“I just think maybe this was all meant to happen.” He’s getting excited, his hands moving around in the air. “You and me. Like, maybe we met in another lifetime or something. Like reincarnation, you know?”

“Yeah,” I say. I don’t really believe in reincarnation, but I’d agree with anything he said at this point.

“I don’t know. I just have this weird feeling, like everything that happened since the start was leading up to us meeting and everything.” His hands flop down into his lap and he releases a deep breath. “Sorry. I’ve just been thinking about this a lot.”

“You’re fine,” I say, and I put a hand out and rub his shoulder. I think he’s smiling, and he says, “Cool.” He sounds embarrassed and he settles back down and pulls the covers up, and my hand falls away. I want to say something to continue this conversation but I don’t know how. I lay back down and stare at the ceiling.

Then, without any words exchanged, Wylie rolls towards me and rests his head on my chest. I adjust easily and put my arm around his shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He moves his leg to tangle with mine and I exhale deeply. His hand comes up to rest on my chest and I grab it and interlock our fingers. I can’t believe how effortless it feels, like we’ve been doing this our whole lives.

I realize I’ve been waiting for this moment since I brought him home.

We lay there in silence, and it’s not awkward at all, my left hand stroking idly through Wylie’s hair and my right playing with his fingers.

“So… what now?” Wylie asks. “Are we boyfriends or something?”

“I think we’re more than that,” I say, and I pull him even tighter against me.

It’s a fucking zombie apocalypse, and if we say we’re a family…who’s going to disagree?

It’s not like there’s any formal government anymore, or any license on a piece of paper that we have to get to file our taxes and shit. There’s no official person that we need to stand in front of, no one to declare us married.

I have no idea what’s going to happen in the future, when we will leave this apartment, where we will end up – Denver always sounded nice – but I know Wylie will be with me.

**Author's Note:**

> I will always love this couple and appreciate Wylie's Youtube channel… his videos and his relationship with Tyler got me through some tough times. Go check him out on Youtube, search for "Wylie Phenix"! He is currently working on an Animated Queer Horror film. :)


End file.
